


Possible (5/39?)

by Mexta



Series: Possible [5]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M, post-412
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2018-01-24 09:34:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1600091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mexta/pseuds/Mexta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey talks to Debbie</p>
            </blockquote>





	Possible (5/39?)

Part 5

"Hey."

The little girl had opened the door this time, the one with the long red hair and freckles. She looked at Mickey for a moment and then her face started to crumple slowly.

"Nothin's wrong," Mickey said hastily. "He's okay. Well, not okay." He gestured with his cigarette. "Same as before."

She made a face, like maybe she was biting her cheek or something. Mickey tossed the cigarette aside. "Can I come in?"

The girl, Debbie, went through the other door into the living room so Mickey followed her. For a moment he stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. "He needs some clothes," he said finally.

Debbie nodded and started toward the stairs but he spoke again to stop her.

"No -- wait," he said, lifting his chin up a little. "I wanna ask you something."

She came back into the room, studying him. "What?"

Mickey looked around, half-impatient. "Is that it? Just you home? Where's your sister?"

"At work. Lip's at college. Carl's out. I'm looking after Liam." She gestured at the toddler sitting on the couch, eyes glued to the television screen.

She'd have to do then. What had she said, that time when they first saw Ian? _We know what this is_.

He sat down in a chair across from the couch where she tucked herself in beside the kid, knees up, still watching him warily.

"You said you saw this before. Someone in your family? Who's Monica?"

"My mother."

Mickey paused. "Is she -- ?"

"Yes. Bipolar. Like Ian."

Mickey tried to remember what Ian had ever said about his mother. "Didn't she ... take Ian to a gay club once?"

That made Debbie's eyes widen. "She _did_?"

"I dunno, man. I think that's what he said. So where is she?" He glanced around the room like he was expecting to see her there.

"We don't know. Gone. Haven't seen her in a couple of years."

Mickey nodded and looked down at his hands. "So ... what was she like when she was here?"

There was a pause before Debbie answered. "Different. Sometimes up, sometimes down. Last time we saw her she was down."

Mickey was getting used to silences by now, so when Debbie stopped again he didn't speak, just waited to see if she was going to say anything else. 

"She tried to kill herself. With a knife. On Thanksgiving ... here. In the kitchen."

Mickey stared. What was he supposed to say to that? He wasn't in the habit of comforting ten-year-olds. "Must've been a lot of blood," he offered finally.

"There was." She looked at him evenly. "You got any knives at your place, Mickey?"

"Yeah, we got knives. I locked them up," he said shortly. Something made him scratch his hands, one against the other. "Was she on meds?"

"Not when she tried to kill herself."

"Was she a zombie when she was on them?"

"That's what Frank says."

He lifted his eyebrows at her. "Was she?"

Debbie shook her head. "I don't think I ever saw her on them."

"Did Ian?"

"I don't know. Maybe. When we were little."

"Do you know what meds she took? Got any left?"

"I don't know, Fiona might. Mickey -- you have to get him to the clinic. You can't just give him random drugs."

Mickey rolled his shoulders in frustration. "You think I don't want to? He doesn't want to go and I'm not gonna push him. Anyway -- what if they try to force him into some ...   "

"They can't lock him up unless he's a danger to himself or someone else. Has he -- tried anything?"

Mickey could feel the heat in the glance he shot her. " _No_."

"Has he gotten out of bed yet?"

"I don't know. No. Not really."

"Does he talk?"

"Sometimes. He wanted to go home last night. But then he changed his mind in the morning." Maybe that wasn't exactly accurate, Mickey thought. More like he realized he couldn't move.

"He can come home," Debbie said quickly. "Any time!"

"I know. I'm not stoppin' him. As long as no one's taking him to the looney bin."

For a moment they both sat silently, and then Mickey looked up. "So what happens next? When does the manic thing start? Does he just -- wake up one morning and start leaping off buildings -- _I'm fuckin' Superman, watch me fly_?"

Debbie chewed on her lip a little. "I don't know. My mom was always like that when she got here. I never saw it happen."

"When ... when he came back from the army, you think ... ?"

"Maybe." She had very wide round eyes, and they seemed to focus on him unrelentingly. "That could have been the start of it."

"They think it runs in families?"

"I don't know!" She jumped up suddenly. "Jesus, I'm not an expert -- I don't know all the answers. Why are you asking me all of this stuff? You need to get some help."

He stared up at her. "I am getting help."

"From where?"

" _You guys_. You're his family. You're supposed to be helping."

"You won't let us!"

"I never said that. I just said you're not dragging him off to some psych ward. You can come and see him any time."

She stopped moving suddenly, the long red strands still swinging around her waist. "Where is he right now?"

"My place."

"Alone?"

"Mandy's there for now.  I can't be with him all the time. I have to -- make a living."

For another moment Debbie stood indecisively. "I'll get the clothes."

Mickey paced around the room while she was gone, wondering if Mandy had gone to work yet, and when Fiona would get home ... where Frank was, and where Monica was, and what would happen when Ian's mood switched the next time.

Debbie came back into the room again and shoved a backpack at him. "Here."

He nodded, an unlit cigarette already in his fingers. "Ask your sister if she has any of that left-over shit from Monica."

She pressed her lips together and nodded. "You can't do it all yourself, you know."

"You guys know where we live." He slung the backpack over his shoulder and opened the front door. "Come over some time."

 


End file.
